


bury me in satin

by nuuboo (orphan_account)



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:49:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1856979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nuuboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death comes at the end. And sometimes, that's not always so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	bury me in satin

Iruka laid on the hospital bed that was really made for only one person. Kakashi had long gone silent, but the hold on his hand didn’t loosen and he could hear shallow, even breathing beside him. Iruka stared at their intertwined fingers and smiled; tan against porcelain, their hands were warm and wrinkled and withered with old age. Against his shoulder, Kakashi’s longer, whiter hair spilled, hiding his aged face. In the distance, somewhere in the hallway, he could hear the ticking of a clock.

Iruka didn’t cry when he passed; he knew, of course— the quiet breathing stopped and Kakashi’s hands softened— but he remained as he was. 

_Tick tock tick tock tick tock._

"Looks like you’ve gone," he whispered, and kissed the top of his partner’s head. "You’ve done well, soldier. You held on for a long time, didn’t you?" Silence greeted him, but he didn’t cry. "And to think that you always said you’d never die an old man." He offered a low, quiet chuckle and shook his head. "You look pretty old to me."

Squeezing down on the hand in his own, he felt the inevitable ache steal over him. The room was dark and quiet and suddenly, Iruka wondered if the loneliness he’d felt as a child would return to him now at his old age. Retired, he had no children to teach or papers to grade; he had a home furnished for two that would only hold one. The bed would feel bigger, the silence louder, the rooms colder— but he knew that from the start. One of them would have had to suffer, and he was glad that it was him. He was glad that at the very least, he was with Kakashi until the end. He was grateful for the privacy, the silence, the calming peace that accompanied him over. 

This was an honourable death. This was the death that shinobi should hope for; a quiet one, one with the company of their family— one that would show their strength and hard-earned experience in their elder years. Kakashi had fought two wars and had bore a burden heavier than most could imagine, but he survived. He pushed forward, holding onto Iruka’s hand when he needed it— sometimes leading, sometimes following, sometimes walking as an equal. This was an honourable death. Iruka laid there in the darkness, swallowed by silence. Maybe it was because of his own body heat that Kakashi’s hand still remained warm. He smiled at the thought and turned his head, whispering one last favour to his departed:

_"Wait for me."_

 


End file.
